


Linguistic Scarcity

by thewindowsshutdownnoise



Series: Economics [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Breeding, Face-Sitting, Kink, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 09:03:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewindowsshutdownnoise/pseuds/thewindowsshutdownnoise
Summary: Error probably should have been less surprised about how good Ink was with his mouth, considering how much time the other monster wasted juststanding around and running it.





	Linguistic Scarcity

**Author's Note:**

> *shoots off party popper* Hey, Happy Late Birthday to a certain little glitch. Technically, this is extra late, since it was supposed to go up on my birthday (the 3rd), but I've literally never been on time with posting fic in my entire life, so why start now, just because I managed to turn another year older. Two more years, though, and I'll finally reach my goal of beating Jesus at living (a.k.a. turning 34). 
> 
> Chronologically speaking, this fic would actually take place before the first fic that got posted, but I don't know how much the timeline really matters to people in a series that's like 90% smut and dumb jokes. And just in case anyone's wondering whether I've been laughing about the title of this fic since I came up with it, well, the answer is yes. Yes, I have. Hey, no one else is here to find my jokes hilarious all the time, so I'm taking one for the team. Or something.

Error probably should have been less surprised about how good Ink was with his mouth, considering how much time the other monster wasted just _standing around and running it_.

Fuming, Error watched through one of his portals as Ink did just that. He was currently wasting the entire day with Dream and Blue, _guarding the multiverse_ and its abundance of glitches--Error snorted--which, right now, seemed to involve just standing there, in the middle of a snowy Underfell forest, yapping endlessly, while--alright, Ink was mostly giggling while prodding Dream, who seemed to be trying to ignore him, but ...

Error glared each time Ink’s fingers or knuckles dug into Dream’s ribs. He growled, grinding his teeth and gripping his own thighs, just one _irritating_ part of an ecto-body that appeared, earlier that day, and now refused to _fuck off_. He wasn't due to go into heat for ages, still. But ( _unlike Ink_ ) he wasn't an idiot. Upon waking, he'd caught the burnt caramel smell permeating the entirety of the anti-Void, felt the unwanted presence of his ecto-body, and known: this was all Ink's stupid fault. The asshole kept screwing up Error's existence in every other conceivable way, so why not this one, too?

He'd been boiling with resentment, since then, the exact length of time impossible to tell as Error let his anger grow progressively hotter. (Time acted differently, in the anti-Void, but Error's temper behaved the same, just about anywhere.) Finally, he’d started opening portals, searching for Ink, planning to drag him into the anti-Void, himself, since Ink apparently wasn't going to show up and take responsibility for ruining Error's life, on his own. 

And so he’d found him, guarding a whole universe of useless glitches with two idiots, instead of in the anti-Void, eating Error out, like he rightly should be. 

Turning the one-way window portal into a door took little effort, and, a moment later, Error was stepping through, strings already summoned. He’d clearly caught the three badly off-guard, as Dream and Blue managed to do little more than cry out in alarm as Error tangled Ink up in the blue threads, dragging him back into the anti-Void and quickly closing the portal behind them.

“Ow,” Ink complained, where he’d landed, hard, on the floor. Then he seemed to fully register the other monster’s presence. “Oh! Hi, Error.”

Error, who could practically feel the heat itching its way through his entire being--somehow _worse_ , now that Ink was here--simply started undoing his pants.

“ _Ohhh_ ,” Ink said, eye sockets widening at the sight of Error’s female ecto. Error just growled at him, back to manipulating the strings already wrapped around his limbs. 

“Don’t get any bright ideas,” he said, immediately tightening the threads and pulling Ink down to the ground, pinning him there, with his arms and legs slightly spread and several blue threads wrapped around his throat, keeping him from lifting his skull. 

_His dumb, thick skull._

Kicking his pants off, completely, Error advanced on Ink, who looked far too unconcerned over the situation for Error’s liking, mostly seeming curious and a little excited, his eye lights flicking back and forth from Error’s face to his now-bare lower half, grinning as he wiggled a little, in place, testing just how tightly the strings were holding him down. Error tightened them further, in response, halting his movements, grinning to himself when Ink finally went still.

For a moment, anyway.

Laughter burbled up out of Ink’s throat, despite the several blue threads circling it like nooses. “You seem a little hot under the collar, bud.”

“You should probably shut the fuck up, too,” Error said, back to glowering down at him. 

“Probably,” Ink admitted, still sounding irritatingly unbothered and also like he wouldn’t be shutting up, any time soon.

Well, Error could take care of that.

He reached Ink’s prone form, then took the extra few steps necessary to situate his feet so they rested on either side of Ink’s skull. Ink just blinked up at him, for a moment, his eye lights cycling and cycling, not quite settling on a reaction.

Suddenly, he grinned.

“Not that I’m not enjoying the view, but--” 

Error made a whole series of frustrated noises, his voice broken into pieces by intensifying vocal glitches. Some of that frustration was sexual, yes, but most came from nothing more than exposure to Ink’s terrible personality and shitty sense of humor and … everything. Everything about him was _the worst_.

Dropping to his knees, Error gripped Ink’s skull with both hands. Immediately, Ink’s eye lights brightened. A moment later, his eye sockets fell to half-lidded.

“ _Ohhh_ , so you--”

Error sat on his face, which had the added benefit of muffling the rest of what Ink tried to say while making Error groan in pleasure from the vibrations, alone. Ink actually kept trying to talk, then started _giggling_ , and Error couldn’t immediately decide whether he’d rather try to crush Ink’s skull with his own thighs or have Ink keep doing exactly what he was doing.

Deciding he could always crush Ink’s skull, later, Error still hissed out an especially vehement, “ _Shut up_. No, keep your jaw open, just … nngh.”

Ink managed to pull it together enough to start using his tongue, and Error clawed at his skull without meaning to. (Without _entirely_ meaning to.) He made the mistake of looking down, as Ink started screwing his tongue into him, meeting Ink’s eye lights with his own. They’d taken the shape of pulsing, pink souls, one oriented normally, the other inverted.

Error pulled a highly offended face at Ink’s entire being, using his hands to anchor himself as he pushed down against him, grinding his clit almost punishingly against Ink’s nasal bridge, his own fractured moans not enough to drown out the noises that Ink was making.

Once, Error would have laughed at the very idea of this, probably while tearing whoever so much as suggested the possibility down into the useless bits of code that composed them. Then again, he’d never known _just_ how satisfying something like this could be--how exactly it would feel, gripping Ink’s skull in both hands and watching his eye lights shivering, faintly, as Error pushed his dumb, grinning face up into--

“Nngh.” Error groaned as Ink pressed his tongue against him in a way that had his eye lights blurring, indistinctly, for a moment.

Ink was good with his mouth. The rest was just … worth putting up with. For now. Anyway, he’d been the one to screw up Error’s heats, in the first place. Why shouldn’t he have to fix them?

Error felt the world lurch around him and his back hit the ground at the same time he realized that Ink had used his momentary distraction to snap the threads holding him down, escaping his snare, entirely. 

Ink leaned over him, grinning while wiping half-heartedly at his mouth with one hand.

“Your face is gross,” Error said.

“Uh huh,” Ink said and pushed two fingers into him. As Error clenched his teeth against a moan (which still slipped through without his permission), Ink reached up and settled his free hand on Error’s ecto-belly, clothing brushed aside so that his fingers skated over bare magic.

Error knew what Ink was trying to do. Of course he did. The guardian couldn’t even convincingly fake sanity, so subtlety was far beyond his reach. _His arms probably aren't even long enough_ , Error thought, snidely, as Ink scissored his fingers, inside of him. He knew what Ink was trying to do--he just also happened to think that Ink was barking so far up the wrong tree, on this one, that whatever he was barking up wasn’t even really a tree. A traffic pole, maybe, one constantly flashing red lights at him, trying to warn him about the total futility of what he was doing. Ink, it seemed, was just enough of a lunatic to think he could overcome Error’s very glitched-out nature and inhospitable body with nothing more than his own desire and drive towards creation.

So far he’d been met with absolutely zero signs of success, which had yet to deter him, in the slightest. 

Ink leaned down, working his tongue over Error's clit and effectively knocking any remaining thoughts loose in his skull, before getting down to the serious business of eating Error out. Within a minute, Error was back to desperately clawing at him, trying to keep his back pressed flat against the ground and failing spectacularly, the arch in his spine practically parabolic by the time he gave in and came all over Ink's face. 

When Ink pulled back, again, his grin was smug enough that Error considered kicking him in the teeth on principle, alone. Most of what saved Ink (or, at least, his continued possession of all his teeth) was how much effort it felt like, at the moment, for Error to wrangle his loose limbs together enough _to_ kick Ink.

He could always do it later. Knowing Ink, he inevitably would, anyway, so--

“Nngh,” Error said and reached up to yank Ink down closer, instead. A little unthinkingly, considering what Ink’s mouth still tasted so strongly of, through the following kiss. Immediately, Error pulled a face and pushed Ink away, but the damage was already done.

“Fuck off,” Error snapped out, immediately--an instinctual effort to swipe the knees out from under whatever shitty joke Ink was about to make, in response, and rooted about as strongly in self-preservation instincts as actually taking Ink out at the knees, in a fight.

Ink just blinked down at him, for a moment, then reached between Error’s parted thighs, his following movements pulling groans from Error’s trembling form, his mouth going crooked with a stupid (stupid, _stupid_ ) grin, as he said, “You know, Error, I’m getting the impression you might not actually want me to leave.”

“Void take you,” Error spit at him. “Would you just--”

And, with that, Ink finally pushed into him, lifting Error’s legs by locking his elbows beneath the other monster’s knees, his eye sockets falling to half-lidded as he entered him, practically purring with self-satisfaction as Error let out a cry, without meaning to. Error managed to fervently hate everything Ink was doing with his face while desperately hoping he’d keep up with how his hips were currently moving, forever.

“I-I-Ink,” Error groaned out, voice splintering.

Ink kept moving, relentlessly, his voice undercut with poorly masked laughter, when he replied, “Yes, dear?” 

Error glared and clenched down on him, hard, causing Ink to hiss through his teeth and sending his hips stuttering wildly off-rhythm. Another miscalculation on Error’s part, maybe, but this one ended far more pleasurably than the last with Error cursing fluently as he saw stars, instead of tasting himself, second-hand, on Ink’s tongue. 

“ _Ohhh_ ,” Ink groaned, his eye sockets tightly clenched against pleasure. When they opened, again, and he focused back in on Error he looked … ravenous. Like he’d been kept starving.

Error actually let out a few ( _highly unintentional_ ) beeps of alarm. 

Reaching down, Ink interlaced his own pale fingers in between Error’s darker ones, pressing their joined hands against the ground on either side of Error’s skull. The movements of his hips, when they started again, weren’t any harder or faster, which Error might have expected. Not that he thought Ink had been restraining himself before. He’d yet to be convinced that Ink even knew what other beings meant when they talked about personal restraint. But the way Ink was simply staring down at him, his eye-lights bright and intent, his movements steady … it was--

“Stop looking at me,” Error blurted out, finally, which was enough to make Ink blink and send his eye lights spiraling through several rapid changes. Strangely, just watching those quick shifts through color and shape made Error feel better, like some strange tension had been sucked right back out of the air.

“You want me to ... _not_ look at you, while I’m fucking you,” Ink said. Like he was just checking.

“Yes,” Error said, immediately, not about to switch tracks or reverse.

Ink just looked at him, for a moment, then gave a sudden, unseemly snort of laughter. “Error.”

“Shut up,” Error said. Admittedly, mostly on reflex.

Ink went right on giggling. “You sure you don’t need me to stare at the wall or-- I guess it’s not really a wall--”

Groaning, Error knocked his own skull back against the floor.

“ … I could always just look at the ceiling, but I think it’d probably throw off my rhythm, a little--”

“Would you just fuck me, already?”

Ink grinned at him. “Do I get to look at you, while I’m doing it?”

Error tightened his legs around Ink, trying to encourage any movement, at the moment, that didn’t involve Ink running his stupid mouth. “If you’re _lucky_.” 

Ink glanced down. When Error followed his gaze, he found Ink smoothing his hand over the soft curves of Error’s ecto-belly, his fingers fluttering over the swell of his hips. 

“Would you just--” Error squirmed underneath him. “ _Get on with it_.”

Ink thrust into him, hard enough to make Error yelp, a little, in surprise, then glower at the other monster for pulling such an undignified noise out of him, in the first place. But it seemed like Ink might finally be ready to quit messing around. For the moment, anyway. Error held out no hope for what Ink might do even five seconds from now, but, presently, he was back to making Error moan with the movement of his hips, alone, bones shuddering each time their bodies came together. 

Error reached up, clawing at Ink’s shoulders. The smaller skeleton took each mark he left behind like encouragement, redoubling his efforts, movements growing quicker and harder until he had Error nearly howling beneath him, voice fracturing, doubling over, and looping back as his body clamped down hard on Ink’s cock.

When Ink came, moments later, he collapsed heavily down onto the monster beneath him, making Error groan, again--this time in sheer discomfort. Every bone in Ink’s body felt like it was currently digging into some soft spot in Error’s ecto-body. “Feel like getting the fuck off me? How do you even weigh so much, you’re three feet tall.”

Ink pushed himself up enough to at least take his full weight off of Error, completely ignoring the dig at his height. He looked down at the other monster, for a minute, eye lights shifting endlessly through shapes and colors before he finally shrugged and said, “I was just getting started.”

**Author's Note:**

> Eyyy, Economics!Error really rocking that glitch denial and hypocrisy. I had probably way too much fun writing from his perspective, but I also feel like I've said that about every UT fic I've written so far. Probably, I'll end up saying it about every other fic I write, too, so. *shrug*
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://thewindowsshutdownnoise.tumblr.com/) and, uh ... literally nowhere else, I guess. Like I said, I turned 32, a couple of days ago, and that's apparently just old enough to be afraid of shit like internet robots and social media lol.


End file.
